


Next to Me

by Voido



Series: Perfect Circles [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, how do i manage to turn this into hurt, let ryuji say fuck, post-interrogation, pre-interrogation, seriously, sigh, spoilers for late game, this ship should be fluffy right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: Keeping the team's moral up has always been the only thing Ryuji thought himself useful for. But when they decide to deliberately let Akira get caught by the police, even he finds himself losing his cool.[Or: The one time Ryuji asks to come over, and the one Akira begs him to stay.]





	1. Anticipation

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since the game opened with showing Akira wounded and drugged, I was really looking forward to the whole build-up of the interrogation and especially the aftermath - the characters' reaction to have him back. What can I say? I was pretty disappointed by how easily it was handled like nothing had happened (those bruises don't just disappear over the course of a day), so...yeah.  
> (Also I'm not yet sure if it'll just consist of this chapter and the one where Akira comes back, or if I'll add some more in-between.)

The roaring thunder way too close nearby and the consistent bright flashes of lightning would have been enough of an excuse for Ryuji Sakamoto to be unable to sleep, yet they were both entirely unrelated to the reason why he was sitting on his bed cross-legged, staring past the phone in his hands, his gaze lingering somewhere around the spot where he'd see the scar reminding him of how his femur had been broken so many months ago, if it weren't covered by the soft fabric of comfortable trunks. He shouldn't be thinking about this now, and he shouldn't be up at all, because he knew how immensely important it was for him – all of the Phantom Thieves – to be in their very best shape tomorrow.

But it was hard not to think back while looking at the chat he had opened, having typed about three or four different attempts to talk to his best friend, however having ended up backspacing each of them and frowning at his own inability to act.

_Best friend._

Ever since Akira Kurusu had entered his life, nothing had been the same as before. Where waking up and dragging himself to school had been a chore to Ryuji, a suffocating, anxiety-driven necessity – _don't make it worse for mom, don't fucking make it worse for mom; pull yourself together, you insignificant loser –_ everything had changed the day he'd found himself venting to the totally lost exchange student. Even now, Ryuji wasn't sure what had surprised him more – the fact that Akira hadn't known who Kamoshida was, or that he hadn't scolded or abandoned him right away for his foul language and behavior. He remembered the weird feeling of heading for the school together, how even though they'd known each other for a few minutes, they'd immediately tried to save each other – Ryuji telling Akira to run, only to be saved from death in return. He'd really thought it would be a one-time thing, that they'd just done what they'd needed to by helping each other in that moment.

Yet, and he smiled a bit at the thought, after leaving the Metaverse for the first time, finding himself totally at loss about what to think or feel, Akira hadn't turned on his heel and left. Without a single reason to help with something he had no affiliation to, he had offered to do it anyway, assist in dealing with Kamoshida – without even knowing who he was.

It had been the day Ryuji had known that his life was starting to get better. The first time in what had felt like forever that he'd been able to look down on himself in the shower, study his leg and feel a certain kind of triumph, knowing that he would finally get the revenge he had never dared to hope he deserved.

After months of feeling small, worthless, responsible for the track team being discarded, he had begun to see the truth. Even if he still, sometimes, _very_ rarely, felt like it was his fault for not keeping it together, for doing _exactly_ what Kamoshida had wanted by punching him and giving him yet another reason to punish them…he didn't regret a single thing.

It was the reason he had become a Phantom Thief; the reason he was now able to change at least a bit about the terrible society around him. About s _hitty adults_ doing what they wanted to do.

But first and foremost, it was the reason he had met Akira. It truly was a _once-in-a-lifetime_ friendship. Never before had Ryuji felt like he could be free like he did around Akira. He didn't get scolded for his language, for talking too loudly or for being too impulsive at times. After finding so many excuses to dwell in the past and blame others for everything that had gone wrong until then, he had instead been given a reason to go on. A place where he belonged.

A _future_.

Remembering all of that right now was soothing just as much as it ached. He knew what he was fighting for, while at the same time risking for that exact thing to be taken from him in the process. Forever. How the others could cope with it, he had no idea. Maybe they couldn't. Maybe everyone was sitting at home, awake, finding excuses not to go to bed so they could pretend _tomorrow_ was still forever away.

But it wasn't, and as someone used to running track, he knew what it felt like when every second counted. How each passing breath gave him the time to realize he was holding tears back. How every time he tried to convince himself things would be alright, his hands trembled worse. How whenever he pretended he was strong, he understood he was weak. How, eventually, he found himself unable to see any signs of this potential future coming true if Akira were to be taken out of it.

And maybe it was that very thought which was so sickening to Ryuji that he finally got the courage to say _“screw it!”_ , blink his approaching dizziness away and simply _do it._

~ _Yo, you still awake?_

_-Can't sleep?_

Straight to the point as always. It made him smile a bit, although he wondered if Akira was just as cool as he was about everything, or able to keep his mask up so perfectly for the rest of them to be worried less – not that it worked, at least not on Ryuji. He was shit scared, and not afraid to admit it, even if he had done his best to assure the rest of the team things would be fine. So many things could possibly go wrong, not even he was dense enough to not see that.

_~Can ya blame me? Dude, this is fucked up._

_-It's our only choice._

He wanted to scream through the display, maybe give Akira a slight punch for making it sound like his sacrifice was some sort of justified imperative, when in reality it was nothing but disgusting and twisted. What was he but a falsely-accused teenager trying to make the world at least a bit better? What had he ever done but give countless people hope and a reason to fight on?

If there was anyone who didn't deserve the uncertainty of tomorrow's mission, it was most definitely him.

- _Futaba and Makoto will indirectly be there to ensure it'll go as planned. We've been over it, right? Decided, unanimously, that the risk is worth the outcome._

_~Dude, don't start!_

_~Nothin's fucking worth losing you. Don'tya make it sound like that!_

There was quite obviously emphasis on the word _unanimously_ , because yes, that was in fact how they carried out their missions. With the consent of everyone, so they could go in without regrets. But this time was so different, so _wrong_ from the start. Not going for the treasure on purpose, risking Akira's life on purpose, fighting alongside the enemy _on purpose._

_-I'm glad you feel that way._

And suddenly, Ryuji realized that even worse than the idea of losing Akira, the single best thing in his shitty life, was the thought of losing him without him knowing just how much he was needed. Appreciated. Loved.

_~We gotta talk, now. In person, dude._

_-It's late._

_~You ain't sleeping and I can't. I'll bike over if I gotta. Please?_

_-Ryuji._

But because it was Akira, the one guy in the world who would never fail to understand and accept Ryuji's ways, it was not much of a surprise that, after sloppily putting some warm clothes on and heading outside, all he saw was a sign of reluctant defeat.

_-As if I didn't know you better than trying._

_-At least make sure to be safe._

Of course he would. The last thing they could afford in a situation like this was either of the team members getting sick or hurt and thus being unable to help with the mission. No, they definitely needed to give this all they had, which was the precise reason Ryuji just _couldn't_ go to bed now and pretend things were okay. He wasn't even in the position of putting his life at stake, and even he felt buried under the pressure of being alone. It was almost funny, considering how many months he'd had _no one_ , and now this simple night seemed to stretch into an eternity.

It made him wonder what Akira felt like. They all relied on him like an invulnerable, perfect mastermind, while in reality he was the same as them: A student. A teenager. Human like each and every one of them. The thought of how much they rested their hopes, their resolve on him made Ryuji so mad that he _ran_ for the train station, even though his leg didn't like the pressure lately. He knew his limits. He was alright. After tomorrow, they would get a break.

His phone buzzed shortly before he'd made it to Yongen-Jaya, having caught the last train just barely. Maybe it was a sign of luck being in his favor for now.

_-Hope you brought your school stuff along._

His eyes grew wide for a second – he hadn't realized that he would _definitely_ not be able to get back home tonight – but then he found himself chuckle lightly. It was so typically Akira to say something like that, calling him out even though he knew the answer already, so Ryuji could only find himself answer:

_~Y'know me better, man._

Right in time before the train came to a halt, too, and he hopped out, heading to Leblanc. The light was still on – or rather _again_ , he supposed – and he could see Akira through the window, sitting at the counter, absently stirring coffee in a small mug while watching the TV, legs crossed and his head resting on his hand, elbow on the counter. He looked incredibly bored, and Ryuji wasn't sure if he was glad about it or pissed off. No one should be like that before the day they might die.

Instead of getting lost in the question, he decided to knock, only to realize the door was open. Convenient, but also dangerous.

“Dude, imagine someone else had tried to get in.”

“If anyone were that desperate, they could really just break the glass.”

Akira turned around, a polite smile on his face. If it were anyone else, Ryuji wouldn't even have noticed how it didn't reach up to their eyes, but he knew Akira well enough, and it was even easier to tell, now that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

“Talk about pessimistic. Anyway, man. I'd say I'm sorry for butting in late, but…”

“I'm glad you're not. In order to ensure the mission's success, I decided it's better not to worry anyone, but I guess…”

He stared into his pitch-black coffee – which was hopefully decaffeinated – for a brief moment before getting up, pointing at one of the booths to say _sit down_ , and walking around the counter to make another drink. Ryuji knew he didn't have to say anything. He almost always either had hot chocolate or soda, and since it was freezing and he was cold, there was really only one choice.

But even so, watching Akira work with the equipment, trying to delay what he had just wanted to say for as long as possible…it was almost painful to watch. A reminder that even he had some limits to how much he could cover up. It was sickening.

“Here,” Akira finally said, sitting down on the other side of the table and putting both mugs on it, then casting a glance to the side where Morgana was sleeping peacefully. He had most likely tried to talk their leader into sleeping, too, as resting up was important, but even he could be very stubborn on that, it seemed. Either way, sitting here together seemed to ease Akira's mind enough to smile again, this time a bit more genuinely, it seemed.

“I figured you'd want hot chocolate.”

“You know it. Thanks, man.”

They sat in silence for what felt like forever, and Ryuji started to feel stupid for it. Hadn't he said he wanted to talk? Suddenly, it was as if not a single logical thing would come up even if he tried. Like there was nothing he could say. Nothing he had a _right_ to say, as, if anything, Akira should be the one talking, about whatever he felt like he needed to say. But he didn't, and the grip around his cup tightened, so much that his knuckles turned white.

“God, Akira, _please_. Just say it.”

“I can't.”

“Fuckin' course you can! I ain't gonna back down 'cause of it or anythin'!”

Staying calm was practically impossible for Ryuji, and he knew Morgana would give them hell if they woke him up, but that didn't make it any easier. How everyone was able to keep their feelings in…he'd never understand. Maybe that's why he was the dense one, the _idiot_. But he was simply sick of doing things he knew he might regret later on.

Instead of arguing, which Ryuji had honestly expected, Akira closed his eyes, sighed and shook his head. If he was trying to convince himself to talk or to be quiet wasn't quite clear, but eventually, he seemingly decided to let it out, easing the grip around his cup and placing one hand on the table right between them.

“I'm scared as hell.”

His voice trembled, and he seemed short of sobbing, so short that Ryuji wanted to take his statement back and call quits on the whole operation. _It's wrong, we can't do this. If we all get caught, we'll_ _end up in jail, sure, but most likely alive. This isn't fair. You can't risk your life like that._ But instead of any of those words, anything he felt was so goddamn needed to be said, all he managed to mumble was:

“Fuck. Me too.”

And it was then that he realized that Akira's hand on the table was shaking, and his fingers most likely going to scratch the wood very soon.

“But Ryuji, you know we don't have a choice.”

“That's bullshit. We just don't have one that's perfect. There's a million other ways.”

Maybe not _that_ many, but there were definitely alternatives. Most of them unsafer than this method, especially since they had spent a good chunk of time to work it out as well as they could – but that was exactly the problem. If things really went their way like that, it'd come close to a miracle. And Ryuji _really_ didn't believe in those.

“No…I mean, you're right. It's not like I wouldn't trust any of you with the mission. But just in case things do go wrong, it should be me. I don't often dwell on it, but I _am_ the leader, right?”

He nodded, sighing in defeat. It had been a matter of time until that would come up, and of course Akira was right. Sending anyone but the leader on a potential suicide stunt would be even more foolish in the long run, and they all knew it. Yet even so, that didn't make anything easier. And there were still all these unsaid things.

“It's just so hard to imagine what it's like, dude. Sure, we all put ourselves in danger, but uh it's like, well…”

Looking for a good example, Ryuji rubbed his back and looked around the store. Words had never been his strength, and he was glad he didn't have to feel embarrassed for it here. Especially since, as always, Akira understood and finished the sentence perfectly.

“Like being told when you'll die and just running towards it?”

“Yeah. Damn, exactly like that.”

They fell silent and listened to the steady noises of the clock ticking and some guy on TV talking about things neither of them could care less about. It was weird, because lately, Ryuji had found himself highly interested in the news, as they were often about them. Mostly negative ones, sure, but even so, he knew there were still people supporting them, people who knew they weren't killers, and people whom they had _helped_. That was more important than shitty reporters and policemen pretending they knew better.

“Let's head up, shall we? I'm totally not ready for Morgana's rage.”

“Me neither, man.”

They left the cups – Akira saying that he'd clean them _in the morning_ , which made Ryuji roll his eyes, because really, who cared about some goddamn cups at this point? – and climbed up the stairs to the attic. All out of sudden, when he looked at the bed, the sofa, the crafting table, the suffocating feeling of seeing all this for the last time in his life hit him hard, and he wanted to punch himself for it. He was supposed to be the one who believed in them, cheered on the team to go on, and definitely not the one who should get desperate and melancholic about this. But how couldn't he, when he saw Akira's pained expression and immediately knew – _he feels the same_.

“I never used that bike, now that I think about it. Or put up some proper decorations.”

“Still can't believe you put that ramen bowl on the shelf.”

Which didn't mean that Ryuji wasn't glad about it, because he was. It was nothing special, but still a gift, and it reminded him of all the things that Akira had done for him, so it was nice to see it like that, on display, even if it was way too much the center of attention in this gray, mostly colorless room.

“Hey, Ryuji?”

He tilted his head to the side, but Akira didn't look at him. Instead, his eyes were desperately looking for something far away to lock onto, out the window and in the distance. Maybe a ray of light. A glint of hope.

“Hm?”

“I know I should be the responsible one, but…just in case that's my last night here…”

It took everything Ryuji had not to interrupt him, because as little as he wanted to hear it, he knew it was Akira's right to vent, to let it out, and to decide how they would approach all of this. Being the leader meant lots of burden, but it also meant that he made the decisions.

“Let's play some games until we pass out.”

And they chuckled, neither of them sounding very amused, but there was still _something_. Maybe the feeling that they understood each other. It had started with them, and they'd see it through together, until the bitter end. Even if it hurt, even if they were met with regret, they both knew:

_I'll be here, and so will you._


	2. Discernment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess there'll be a third chapter, as pressing everything into this one would've felt wrong.
> 
> I know Sae apparently dropped Akira off in a taxi, but I found that pretty weird. Imean, he's bruised as fuck and all that??? So I figured it'd make more sense to change that part...  
> ...  
> ...and literally everything else about the aftermath, because I was NOT happy with it.
> 
> PS: Writing scenes with, like, 10 characters is so damn hard. :l

The unpleasant feeling of his body being rocked made Akira snap out of his nightmare with a sharp inhale. Seconds passed, his eyes so wide that it hurt, and it took him a moment to realize he'd stopped breathing. He needed to calm down. _A dream, a dream._

“I'm sorry. I had to brake quite hard.”

He turned his head to a side, ashamed of himself seeing the pitiful look Sae Niijima gave him. It was obvious how pathetic he looked, covered in dirt, bruises and his own blood, but they had lacked the time to clean him up before fleeing. After all, he was officially a dead man now, and the sheer fact that the plan had worked out perfectly still creeped him out a little.

_Well, almost perfectly._

Of course he had expected to get hurt, even if the  _true culprit_ plan went well, but it had indeed been way too close. If not Akechi, one of the guards could have easily killed him. He wasn't intending on lying to his teammates, but maybe leaving out a few details on how close the plan had been to failing would be wise. There was no reason to dwell on it after all, as it was over now.

With it, though, the moment he'd taken malicious pride in knowing that they had officially taken the momentum back from their enemies had passed as well, and he found it hard to suppress the sickness building up in his stomach. He knew he'd have to keep calm until they made it back to Yongen-Jaya, and then he could freely vomit his soul out without thinking twice. Most likely after giving Sojiro and Futaba a heart-attack with his appearance.

“We're almost there.”

He just nodded, closing his eyes to try and focus on calming down. His heart was racing from both the nightmare and the way he'd woken up, way too similar to the feeling of being kicked flying across a room. Somehow he knew that he wouldn't be able to shake this off soon, and just the thought of being hit to the ground by a Shadow suddenly scared him immensely.

They came to a halt, but he felt himself unable to move. Were they going to walk the rest of the way? He didn't think he had the energy for that, and even though it was the middle of the night, the idea of dragging himself through the streets in his current state wasn't quite appealing. Had Sae contacted Sojiro through Makoto? Everything on Akira's mind was blurry, and thinking physically hurt.

He got the answer when the passenger's seat door opened and he almost fell out of the car, not having realized how he'd been leaning his head on the window. A pair of shaking hands caught him, a surprised gasp deepening his feeling that he looked horrific.

“You better have a good explanation for this, woman.”

It was a bit endearing to hear Sojiro's voice like that – accusative, but even more concerned. No matter how much he usually tried to pretend he hardly cared, it was obvious that he did, and Akira was glad about it. His parents surely wouldn't even bother if anyone tried contacting them, but knowing that at least his guardian cared was soothing.

“I do, for the most of it. However, I hope we can postpone that to tomorrow, as I will need to leave right away to settle things.”

“Fine.”

They made it to Sojiro's house – Akira tried to argue, but he was too tired to fight back, and it actually made sense to keep him far away from anyone's eyes for now, including customers. When his head finally hit the pillow that wasn't his, he was already gone.

 

\-------

 

An exploding headache woke him up the following morning – or whatever time it was – letting him see stars even though his eyes were still closed. It wasn't comparable to any kind of pain he'd ever felt in the Metaverse, as this suffocating feeling of having to vomit out all his organs was so much worse than a spell or hit knocking him off his feet.

He rolled over to his side, regretting it immediately when a sharp pain left him unable to breathe. _Ribs_ , he figured, remembering how he'd been kicked through his cell multiple times. The memory of it happening was a bit blurry, but he still remembered the soreness he'd felt with each and every breath.

“Akira? Akiraaaa!”

Futaba's face appeared over his, although he had a hard time registering her expression as keeping his eyes open still hurt. Her voice was too loud, but when he felt a tear drop onto his face, he decided against scolding her for it. Out of everyone, he probably would've wanted her to see him like this the very least.

“I'm sorry, Futaba.”

“Don't apologize, stupid!”

She dropped on the chair next to the bed – it was her own, Akira realized when he noticed his feet were dangling over the edge, and he figured it made sense as she had probably been awake the whole night either way, letting everyone know that he was alive and back home. He felt sorry for her, because knowing their friends, they'd probably bombarded her with questions about his well-being for hours, and he really didn't look forward to facing them the way he looked.

“Everyone's meeting with Makoto's sister to explain what's going on. Sojiro told them you're not feeling too well, although I doubt you're gonna stay in bed.”

“I can't.”

And he really didn't _want_ to. If he met everyone today, tomorrow or the day after that, he knew his bruises were too much to heal either way. Better to get it over with now and focus on their next step than hiding from it and potentially making it worse.

“They'll notice something's not right if I don't meet them. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

Chuckling humorlessly, Futaba nodded. Socializing was troublesome for her, but she was highly intelligent and had most likely expected him to say just that. It was weird, at times, but he welcomed not having to explain himself.

“Figured. I'll send Sojiro a message to help you over, cause I really can't carry your weight! Until then, we can heal you up a bit!”

She made it seem like some sort of video game, but Akira didn't mind. Apparently it was easier for her to understand life and adapt to it like that, and she had already improved and opened up, especially to him, immensely. There was no doubt she was still holding more tears back, and Akira wasn't hyped to see himself in the mirror, but they were both going to be fine. After this horror of a plan, he was sure they could do everything.

…

Excluding fixing up his appearance a bit. Akira had expected it to be bad, _very_ bad, but his reflection in the bathroom mirror was so much worse than whatever he'd expected his face to look like. The blood he could wash away, but that only revealed how severe the wound on his forehead looked. He faintly remembered someone throwing him on the floor and stepping on his head, but he'd been too drugged back then to feel the pain. Now, though, it throbbed with each and every heartbeat.

“Looking good,” he mumbled monotonously, barely keeping his eyes open, focused on not doubling over head-first into the mirror. He was well aware how foolish it was to be up again, that he should definitely see a doctor to confirm he hadn't suffered a concussion, but he couldn't. More than anything, he needed to be strong just a while longer. Everyone was scared, and it was his job to make sure they would be okay. There was no way he would risk them doing something reckless out of fear.

“Akira…no one would blame you for delaying the meeting, really.”

Futaba's voice was trembling, and she'd been watching him motionlessly, sitting on the bathtub to keep an eye on his condition. It was painful to see her like this. She was so used to losing people and being alone that the mere thought of something even worse happening to him now visibly hurt her.

“I know, but…I want to get this over with. Try to forget. Please, let's just head over. I do admit that this sorry excuse for nursing I'm doing here isn't going anywhere.”

She didn't seem to be okay with that, but nodded and typed a text message, most likely for Sojiro to come pick them up. It made Akira feel powerless and like even more of a burden – all he'd been to the man so far. Leeching off him by living for free – even if it was an attic, it was still a proper room now – getting fed and being kept safe. All he'd given in return were lies and secrets, and he'd never realized that until now.

“I need to get out of here.”

 

\--------

 

They met Sojiro half-way, because Akira had insisted to get out of the house immediately. In the dark – he'd apparently slept much longer than he'd thought – the faint stains on his uniform were hardly visible anymore, and his face probably didn't look as bad unless someone squinted, but he was still glad when he got a helping hand to guide him to Leblanc faster. They waited outside for a moment, Futaba heading in, most likely to prepare everyone for the shock they were going to experience in a minute. Mostly, though, it gave Akira the time to breathe. He already saw it right in his mind: A stare as disbelieving as a cat's could be from Morgana, tears in Ann's eyes, utter horror on Makoto's face, Haru's lips shut tightly, her brows furrowing in agony, Yusuke trying to keep calm but his eyes widened in shock, Ryuji clenching his fists, his lips trembling and every inch of him visibly wanting to scream and throw something across the cafe.

Thinking about it gave Akira too much of a chance to re-decide and run away, so instead he gave Sojiro a nod and opened the door to go in first. Futaba was sitting on a chair next to the booth somehow everyone else had managed to squeeze into, staying close as if otherwise they'd be torn apart. Sitting at the counter was Sae, looking shocked even though she'd already seen the wounds on Akira. It'd been dark, he figured, so maybe she hadn't noticed just how bad it was.

To his horror, the reactions were exactly as he'd predicted them. Both Ann and Ryuji had jumped up, yet stopped right away when they got to see Akira's condition. It was agonizing to watch their faces fall in these different kinds of ways, but it also emphasized the fact that he needed to do this right now and get it over with. They had a right to know, they had a right to mourn, but the earlier they did so, the sooner they could get over it.

“Hey, everyone.”

His voice was weaker than he'd expected it to be, and just then did he notice how blurry his vision was getting. At first, he thought that maybe he was crying, but when the floor came closer, he noticed he was falling. It came out of nowhere, but Sojiro still managed to grab him with one hand, yet let go when he got caught from the front.

“You really are born for track, you know.”

Akira knew it sounded like a weirdly-timed compliment to Ryuji, but it was really just his own way of saying thanks without making a big drama of it. He buried his face into his friend's neck, glad about the support keeping him up, and trying not to grab his shirt _too_ desperately. So much for keeping it together for the team.

“Ugh, how do you manage to push the attention from yourself even now, dude. Have a bit more respect for yourself, will ya?”

“I apologize.”

“Dude!”

They managed to get him to the booth, softly squeezing him between Ann and Ryuji on the side were both of them had been sitting before. It was weird, being watched like this, but since he knew what he looked like, he could hardly blame any of them.

“We have been naive to expect you would be fine as long as we succeeded in tricking Akechi. We should have known how many other problems could have arisen. Akira, is this why you insisted on carrying out the mission alone?”

He couldn't help but smile a bit at how sharp Makoto was. Through all their meetings and planning, not a word about him possibly getting tortured or killed right away by the interrogators had come up. At first, he'd expected that no one had wanted to talk about it, but when they'd started getting more comfortable when everything had been set-up, he'd realized they simply hadn't known better. But what kind of leader would he be to cast doubt when there was clearly nothing else they could do either way?

“Just a moment, if I may. What is it you're trying to insinuate, Makoto?” Yusuke asked, clearly confused, and Haru nodded in agreement. Even though he would have loved to skip this whole part of the conversation, Akira knew they wouldn't let him. Maybe talking it through would help them deal with the situation better, so he'd go along with it.

“I meant to say that Akira fully expected for things to go at least roughly this way, and I want to make sure he knows that if we had known this could happen, we never would have agreed on carrying the mission out like this.”

“I know that,” he interrupted her calmly, as her voice was getting shaky and it was hard to listen to her, out of all people, be so self-conscious about their unanimous decision. As if the fact that they hadn't been able to foresee this outcome was her fault and hers alone.

“Actually, that's precisely _why_ I didn't tell you. If I had, you'd immediately have called quits on the operation, and we simply lacked the time to do so based on emotional reluctance. I didn't want to trick you into agreeing to this, but I figured it's actually easier if you don't understand the severity of the mission.”

Silence filled the room with an unbearable heaviness. He knew how that had been a long monologue for him, who usually left most of the talking to the others, but he had felt it necessary to make clear where they were. The last thing he wanted was for his mates, his _friends_ to believe he didn't trust them, or that he thought they _wanted_ him to get hurt.

“Kids your age shouldn't have to say words like those. Geez.”

He looked up to Sojiro, who was now handing hot drinks to everyone, and tried to give him an apologetic smile, but of course Akira knew that could never be enough. He'd worried the man sick after all.

“If not me, it would have been someone else. I couldn't risk my friends getting caught.”

“What boss meant to say, I think,” Haru started quietly, trying to steady her composure by clinging to her cup, “is that no matter how admirable these words are, you should keep in mind that the possibility of losing you is nothing we would ever wish for, either.”

“Yeah, I…I know. But wouldn't we all have gotten caught if we hadn't tried for this? I really am sorry for worrying you, everyone. I simply don't know what else we could have done.”

“Stop apologizing.” This time, it was Ann who scolded him, not even trying to wipe the tears off her face anymore. “We know why you did it, it's just…hard to accept.”

They all fell silent, which was almost worse than the mourning. If only they could get to the point already. The sooner he got to head up to bed, the better. All they really needed to do before that was decide on their next steps, and make sure Sae was on their side for it. Either way, Akechi and whoever he worked with were still dangerous opponents, but for now, they should have a moment of rest.

“I understand this is troublesome for everyone. However, I will need you to explain to me the full situation in order for me to be able to help you.”

Everyone seemed relieved by Sae bringing that up. Getting back to business would help all of them cheer up. After all, even though Akira had been hurt so severely, everything else had worked out just as intended, which in return meant that for now, they would have the upper hand in their fight against Akechi and whoever commanded him.

Instead of rising to speak, though, Akira left it to Makoto, who did her best to explain the whole operation as comprehensibly as possible to Sae and Sojiro. From time to time, the others would add something, including repeating Morgana's words because the adults obviously couldn't hear him, but Akira himself decided to listen and let himself relax. He hadn't mentioned it, but he was indeed still in a lot of pain, and staying awake even though he was exhausted made him dizzy.

“Hey, you okay?”

Everyone was still vividly discussion the plan, now explaining how they'd set up the interrogation room in the Metaverse, which was why he was even more surprised by the words directed at him from the side. Sure, the others tended to call Ryuji out for being reckless or even dense at times, but he always knew when something was wrong with Akira, and it was enough to make him crack a slim smile. It was also the reason he decided not to try and lie about it.

“Feeling horrible,” he whispered back, gladly accepting to rest his head on the shoulder that was offered to him, closing his eyes to doze a little, however wondering why Ryuji was so incredibly tense. It seemed like he wanted to say something yet didn't know how, but if in any way possible, Akira would try not to draw any more attention to himself now.

“What's wrong?” he decided to ask instead, after slightly snorting at Yusuke complimenting Futaba's so-called _quirky character_ and her trying to defend herself by claiming it had been _an act._ It was good that they were able to joke around like that. They all needed these small bits of happiness after having gone through these unbelievable amounts of stress of fear for weeks, maybe actually months. Everything was finally starting to look up again. And if Akira had any way to ensure they could have more of these good moments, he would give everything for it.

_Oh._

That was the second it clicked, and he understood why Ryuji wasn't joining in on the laughter, on the conversation or anything. He'd probably spent all the time before Akira's return trying to convince everyone it was going to be okay. He'd make stupid jokes about how much of an idiot Akechi was, how they'd totally win and just how amazing the Phantom Thieves were, but deep down – and it was always confusing to Akira how no one seemed to understand that – Ryuji had been worried all the time. So much that he had refused to stay home the day before the mission. So much that he couldn't hold it in anymore and keep joking like it was okay.

Because it wasn't. He was the only one Akira had told about being scared, and while he didn't regret it, it was definitely proof of how smart it had been not to let anyone else know. They managed to keep it together because they thought he was doing fine. Hell, they managed to pretend things were okay because  _he_ managed to pretend things were okay.  But opening his eyes, looking at his best friend's face and seeing the deep frown he couldn't  restrain , Akira realized how much of a lie all that was. He wasn't alright. The second everyone left, he'd probably find himself remembering the things that had happened to him. Being screamed at, being beat, kicked and drugged, hardly able to bring forth a word without floundering. Trying to remember the important things he had to tell Sae, anxiety slowly piling up inside him as time ran short. His own sweaty hands when she was already preparing to leave when he hadn't been able to tell her about the phone yet.  _I need to remember, I NEED TO REMEMBER_ ; he'd thought those words so many times, almost tearing up back then, knowing that if he forgot what he had to do, he'd die.

“Akira…are you in pain?”

Makoto's voice was far gone, yet ringing in his ears as if she were screaming. Suddenly, it was silent in the cafe, and Akira became awkwardly aware of horror on his face and his eyes tearing up. Hadn't he decided he needed to pull it together? How could he take this moment of victory from his friends like this?

“I'm fine, it's just-”

“Like hell you are! Dude, we-”

“Ryuji, let him finish!”

“I can't stand this bullshit any longer, Ann!”

“Both of you, please!”

They fell silent when Makoto actually raised her voice. It was rare, and she immediately looked like she regretted it, but her stare was unyielding. Times like these, it was obvious that she was the group's calm anchor, even if by abusing her unwanted authority to keep them quiet.

“Akira, if you're not up for this, we understand. Both Futaba and I have full knowledge of what happened, so explaining to boss and my sister will not be an issue. You can rest and all of us will take at least a day or two off to recover from all of this.”

And because he was too tired, too exhausted to argue, he simply nodded. It made sense for her and Futaba to explain things to the adults, and considering the mood and his own weakened state, they wouldn't get much further tonight either way.

“I suppose that's…for the best. Just do me a favor and don't meet up without me, even if you want to get all of this over with as fast as you can. I understand that, but don't try to leave me behind. Alright?”

They all nodded, and so did he, managing to crack a smile even though it wasn't truly real. For now, knowing they were all alive and able to go on had to be enough, and maybe taking a few days to think things through would help clear everyone's minds. Let alone the fact that they'd probably calm down once the bruises on his face had disappeared.

“Good. I suggest we all go home and rest, then.”

“Fiiine! You staying at the house again, Akira?”

It was tempting and he knew that Futaba's offer was genuine, but he also knew that he'd been using  _her_ bed last night, and he didn't want to force her to sleep on her  chair or, even worse, not at all for another night. Besides, she did mean a lot to him, but she still wasn't the person he wanted to…no, the person he  _owed_ to stay the night with.

“Thanks, but no. I'll need someone to help me up to my room, but then I'll probably fall asleep before everyone even reached the station. I really appreciate it, though. Make sure you all get home well.”

“We will.”

“I'll help ya, man.”

He wondered if Ryuji's carefree words sounded wrong to everyone, or if it was just him who noticed it. There was no doubt about it – tonight, a bomb would drop in some kind of way. The more everyone else was relaxing, the more he felt the tension between the two of them, and he was glad that no one questioned them getting up and heading for the attic, Akira now a little less confident in walking on his own as his ribs were giving him hell again.  It was a blessing how they were the same height, making leaning onto Ryuji relievingly easy.  They came to a halt shortly after climbing the stairs, as if the room were engulfing them like a protective bubble.

“I never imagined it could feel _this_ good to be standing in an old attic.”

“Dude, me neither.”

They made it over to the bed to sit down, and Akira immediately let his back crash onto the mattress. This time, he could actually appreciate it before passing out, even though it wasn't the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in. Somehow, this place had started to feel like home a long while ago without him even noticing, and coming back after having feared to die was an indescribable feeling. Still, he knew there were things they needed to talk about, and even more of which he wasn't sure if he should keep them to himself.

“I'm mad at you.”

The words came out of nowhere, and for a moment, he wondered if he had imagined them. But now, judging by the way Ryuji was looking down on him, expression a mixture of worry and disappointment, Akira realized he'd actually heard  it correctly.

“I understand that. Feel free to vent about it. I don't mind.”

“Well, I fucking do, man! Y'should be venting, screaming, freaking out. Yet all you do is _still_ offer yo'self up for us. It's so messed up, dude!”

He sat back up, shook his head and reached out to grab Ryuji's shoulder, to signalize him to calm down. It was in vain, obviously, as all the anger he'd kept in earlier – and most likely for days now – was being released now.

“I know that, Ryuji, but it can't be changed. Wouldn't it be better to move on?”

“Well, you tell me! I know I'm the idiot of us all, but then why does no one else see that you ain't half as fine as y'all pretendin', huh?!”

This was true, so true that Akira had to look down to hide the shame creeping up inside him. Of course he wasn't fine – no matter the things they regularly went through, none of that was remotely comparable to the things he  _still_ kept seeing in detail whenever he closed his eyes for a mere second, the pain in his whole body reminding him  of what had been done to him. He knew it was going to haunt him, day and night, maybe for weeks, maybe months, maybe forever. Yet somehow, the worst feeling of them all was the memory of just how close he'd been to mess up everything when he'd almost sold everyone out.

“Oh God, I'm sorry,” he said before even realizing it, buried his face in his hands and accepted the fact that he was crying. After all the big talk he'd been doing before and during the mission, actually even now that it was done, he felt more than pathetic for dropping the facade after all, but it was just too much to take.

“Dude, no! Shit, I didn't mean to make you- holy fuck, I'm so sorry!”

He was tugged into a comforting hug, embracing the tight grip on his shirt as if anything less than that could separate them forever. Even though the anxiety, the desperation were trying to eat him up from the inside, he appreciated how he could let it all out, knowing he wouldn't be judged. It was an unfair burden to put on Ryuji, Akira knew that. But there was simply no one else he could trust this much, or who would understand him equally.

“It's not your fault. I just…Remembering how I almost messed up is unbearable.”

“ _You,_ messing up _?_ The hell you talkin' about?”

“I…I have no idea what kind of crazy drug they put me on, but I know it was a dose so heavy that I hardly had control over my body, let alone my thoughts. It scared me, so much that…”

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, trying not to think back of the dim gray room, the hard plastic chair, the ways he was beat up, kicked, choked and spat on-

“When Makoto's sister offered to help me if I confirmed each of your names, I panicked. She was about to leave, and I was so high on that stupid drug that I almost _forgot_ to tell her about the phone. I knew I needed to tell her something, but everything was foggy. All I knew was that I was going to die if I let her leave like that, so I…”

A soft, highly unamused chuckle left his mouth. It sounded dry, pathetic and as painful as it was. He'd managed to keep all these thoughts at bay so well up until now, but now that he'd started, he knew there was no turning back.

“Just for a second, I considered…I considered giving in. The thought of being stuck in that place and being tortured until I died was so unbelievably scary that I didn't know what to do. I almost got _all_ of you arrested as well, even though I'd just experienced how painful that was. There's no way for me to apologize for that.”

His voice faded into an ugly sob, reminding him of how much of a pathetic pulp he wa s. Good thing he didn't have to see himself in the mirror  _now_ , because he knew he was a ridiculously ugly crier, his hair wildly falling onto his messy, reddened face.

“I can't believe you.”

“I know, I-”

“Dude, no. You know _nothin'_ 'bout what I'm sayin'. Hell,  this is unbelievable. You're crying 'cause you're hatin' yourself for somethin' you had _no_ control over. This makes me so mad I wanna punch a wall.”

Only now did Akira realize that Ryuji was trembling, refusing to let go or even loosen their tight hug the slightest bit. His breath was going unsteadily, implying that he was holding back either unfiltered rage or, and Akira felt like that would be even worse, tears as well. How it had come to this, he wouldn't be able to explain, but he knew that if it hadn't been for Ryuji asking to come over back then, he'd be alone right now. Reliving the nightmares of imprisonment, endlessly blaming himself for something that hadn't truly happened  that way. 

“I guess…maybe you're right. Hey, think you can do me a favor?”

“Y'know it. Anythin', man.”

And for the first time today, he managed to smile – a real one, entirely different from the fakes he'd put up to ease everyone's minds. Because here, he could be free. It would be alright for him not to be alright. Whatever happened, he wasn't alone in this.

“Don't ever leave me.”


	3. Deceleration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished something with more than one chapter???? Freaking weird!  
> Yet, I'm not entirely content, so....I guess there'll be a "sequel"? I suppose I'm already writing on it? *siiigh* These boys got me caught up in the feels for good.

When Akira awoke from the restless sleep he couldn't recall falling into, his very first urge was to get up and run away from whatever was chaining him to the floor. Every breath he took felt like a knife piercing right through his chest, a rope tying him up tightly. It was way too hot, yet he was freezing, trying to understand where he was and why. It was right before he started hyperventilating, that a soft whisper right behind him eased his mind.

“It's alright, dude. T'was a dream.”

Suddenly, he could feel the comforting warmth of Ryuji's chest right against his back, the arm embracing him just so firmly that it didn't yet hurt, the fingers softly running through his hair, the tickling breath in his neck and the delicate heartbeat which his own was starting to align to again. That's right; he wasn't in prison or in the Velvet Room. He was in the attic, he was at _home_ , and he wasn't alone. With his own breath evening out again, he was finally able to take in his surroundings again. The moonlit star stickers he'd gotten from Yusuke slightly illuminated the room, his plant's leaves were slowly dancing due to the breeze coming in through the window, and the blanket he knew had once been lying on them had dropped to the floor. It didn't bother him, personally, but with it he also noticed that Ryuji was shaking, freezing, and Akira took a deep breath before reaching out for the blanket to cover them again.

“It's weird,” he mumbled without thinking about it, trying his best to throw most of the blanket over his friend who was clearly in more need of the warmth.

“Whaddya mean?”

“Hm? Oh. I don't even remember dreaming. I suppose the pain just subconsciously makes me feel terrible as soon as I wake up.”

He realized how bad that sounded, and that it would probably just worry Ryuji way more than necessary. It wasn't easy to filter one's words with him, because he was such an easy person to be around – straight-forward and honest, possibly a bit mentally slow sometimes, but yet so refreshingly direct and earnest about his hopes, wishes and even fears.

“Sorry, dude. We shoulda gotten ya some painkillers before sleepin', but uh, by the time I got the idea everyone had left, and I wasn't sure if ya have any, and then you dropped asleep and-”

“Ryuji.”

“Huh?”

With soft but determined resistance to the grip holding him tightly, Akira managed to sit up, doing his best not to grimace at the pain in his chest, and crossed his legs, looking down at his very confused-looking best friend, who in return frowned at him before sitting up, too.

“I will be alright, I know that now. As long as you're here, a bad night won't get the best of me. I promise.”

He smiled genuinely, his eyes tired but his mind slowly coming to. It was a slightly weird thought just how much closer he felt to Ryuji compared to everyone else in situations like these, but whenever he tried to picture the idea of the word _home_ , it was exactly this. The half-empty yet comfortable attic, moonlight letting him see enough to navigate through the room without his phone's flashlight, the smell of coffee lingering in the air, the feelings of mental and physical closeness to Ryuji, and the soft purr of a sleeping-

“Wait…where's Morgana?”

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen the cat ever since they'd headed for the attic, and he felt bad about forgetting so easily. Chances were high that he'd left with Futaba and Sojiro, but Akira was in some way his sort-of owner, right?

“Haven't seen'm, dude. Probably with Futaba. She tried to hide it, but this state ya in freaking hurt her.”

Right. Sighing, he nodded. She'd been crying when he'd first woken up, and he hadn't really known how to comfort her. Physical contact wasn't easy with her, so randomly hugging her like Ann had hugged him would've felt wrong. Maybe it was good if Morgana had accompanied her and stayed with her for at least a night or two. There was only so much Akira could do to make sure everyone believed in his recovery, and most of it would have to be handled by time erasing the reminders he wore on his skin.

“I wish these bruises just disappeared.”

“I bet. Must hurt as hell.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“That's not it. I simply can't stand hurting people by looking like a wreck.”

For now, he thought, a change of clothes would be his best bet. He hadn't gotten to that in what felt like forever, and if he had a choice, he would-

“Mind escorting me to the bathhouse? It should be open just a while longer, and no one goes there this late at night.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji got up from the bed and made his way over to the shelf where Akira kept his spare clothes in a box – or, lately, piled up next to it, because he was too lazy to put them all back, and too cheap to go buy a dresser. He was fine having it like this, and it made him chuckle at the hardly audible scold coming from Ryuji. Thinking about it, Akira had never seen his room, but from all his reactions to the attic, he figured it must be pretty stuffed yet neat, a truly amusing contrast to Ryuji.

“Man, I always wondered, but no surprises here. Your wildest color really is blue, huh?”

“I look like a clown in anything that's not cold colors.”

Akira did his best to get up to his feet, soon realizing it was a bad idea. He hadn't been feeling much besides his ribs while lying on the bed, but now his legs were trying to give in, which made a hot bath all the more desirable. He needed to wash it all off himself. The pain, the stains, the thought of almost having let everyone down. The guilt, the remorse, the weird feeling of having failed Akechi instead of the other way around-

His head was a whole mess in this regard, but ever since the incident with that woman back in his hometown, Akira felt a certain kind of responsibility for everyone who had suffered injustice, and he found himself unable to believe that someone like Akechi, who had awoken to a Persona, could truly be evil for the sake of it. Whatever had twisted him into the person he was now needed to be stopped, and maybe there was actually a way to-

This wasn't the time to think about any of this. Most importantly, he needed to recover in order for them to defeat the man behind it all – Shido – and put an end to this whole charade. The fact that the whole world was against them surely didn't make that an easy task. Add to that how they'd already been driven into a corner and weakened severely…

He hadn't noticed his legs letting him down until he was already on the floor, supporting himself on both hands and breathing unsteadily. It took less than two seconds for Ryuji to be kneeling right next to him, worry quite obvious on his face.

“Shit, man, don't do that. It's okay to rely on me for a change, y'know? I got ya.”

_It's okay to rely on me._

_It's alright not to be alright._

Akira smiled, letting his friend help him up, and took the clothes that were handed to him. Now they only needed to make their way over. Only down the stairs, only straight through the dark cafe, only out the door to the bathhouse almost right across.

…

Needless to say, it took them an exhaustively long time to get there, and Akira felt himself sweat because of it even before going in. But Ryuji didn't say a word, instead checking if they were alone – which they indeed were, luckily. It was one of the major upsides of the never-busy Yongen-Jaya over Shibuya or Akihabara, where you'd never find a place to be for yourself.

“Yo, think you can manage? I'ma keep watch in case someone _does_ come here. Supposin' you ain't gonna like anyone bustin' in on ya…”

He didn't finish the sentence, but it was obvious enough. Busting in on Akira covered in severe bruises. Any sane person would freak out about that and make the craziest assumptions – most rightfully so – and if there was a way to avoid that, they should. Still, it was weird to have someone watch over him like a sort of lifeguard, but he chose to appreciate the devotion instead of complaining.

“Yeah, I'll manage. I might come back out crawling, but that's alright.”

“Dude, nah. I'll check on ya after like…30? Eh, let's say 40 'cause of lettin' in the water and all that.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.”

He wanted to hide, shame creeping up in him, and at the same time felt the sudden urge to pull Ryuji in a reassuring hug to make sure he actually knew just _how_ grateful Akira was for him being here. Things between them tended to feel agonizingly easy; normal and like second nature, but times like these, he realized they actually weren't. People, no matter how close, usually didn't go this far so easily for a friend, maybe not even their _best friend_ , and with each and every time Akira experienced it, he realized all the more that if he had to tear down the sky for things to stay like this forever, he would, no questions asked.

If there was a thing he'd come to understand while in custody, he thought while settling down in the hot water, letting it rinse the evidence of his cruel punishment off his body, then it was to live life without restraints or regrets. Thinking about that now only reminded him of how pathetic he truly was, because he knew that he was running, from uncontrolled feelings piling up inside him. An unfamiliar yet oh-so-common warmth filling him from the inside, making him believe he could easily stand up against anything and anyone.

Whenever he tried to push it away for whatever reason – _it's just me; it'd change too much; don't ruin this_ – he found himself think of it even more. The times they spent together, entirely comfortable in each other's presence, as if it had never been meant to be any other way. He'd close his eyes for merely a second, only to vividly imagine the happy smile on Ryuji's face whenever they achieved something great together, and Akira's heart would stop for just a moment before he'd realize, all over and over:

_Oh. I love him._

Sometimes he wondered  if he was as blatantly obvious about it as he felt, but there were no signs indicating anything like that. He wasn't ashamed about it, nor did he regret admitting it to himself. But as long as he kept it hidden, it couldn't ruin what was there. It couldn't get in the way of moments like these, where he was able to relax, taking a public bath right after having been declared dead, knowing that literally anyone else would have stopped him, but Ryuji just  _understood_ .

Thinking about it , it was probably almost time to switch from rejoicing to actually making objective use of the bath. Akira felt it calm his body and loosen the tenseness seemingly chaining him up.  It was a bit risky to dip his head into the water as it made him dizzy, but he tried; for only a second at first, then five the next time. Eventually, he managed to stay underwater long enough for the heat to wash away bits of his pounding headache, and kept his eyes closed when surfacing to embrace the liberty.

A ll that was left now was to take down Shido. Then they'd be able to focus on other things than their own safety again, like helping Morgana remember his past.  They'd kinda lost track of how important their regular lives were, too, Akira realized. Sure, he'd been hanging out with some people whenever they hadn't bothered with a palace or Mementos, but overall,  everything had been centered around not getting caught by someone.

“Dude, you alive?”

He almost jumped up at the words, having forgotten that they'd decided on a rough time for him to be done. Had it already been this long? Well, judging from how piercing the air felt on his deep-red skin when he got up to let the water out and grab a towel – yeah, it had. But it was a good kind of sting, making him feel alive and wiping the sleepiness off his hot face.

It took him a while to dry himself and wrap the towel around himself to get out of the room, but at least he didn't need help with it – which meant a lot, considering he'd hardly been able to stand on his own two feet for more than a few seconds earlier.

“Feeling better?”

“Tons.”

He got dressed, heavily focused on not doubling over, now more than ever glad that no one else was around. There was no doubt he looked p itiful , and he was sure that even though he wasn't staring, Ryuji had an eye on him –  _just in case._ It was good, reassuring, and Akira should thank him for it later. Not only this situation, but really  _everything_ .

 

\----- ------

 

They decided to stop in the cafe for some very late dinner – so late, in fact, that it could almost count as breakfast. Either way, Akira silently thanked Sojiro for the leftover curry, since warming it up was still  _so_ much faster than making something proper with the ingredients in the fridge. He would've liked to do that, too, but it wasn't easy if he could hardly stand on his feet without his legs trembling.

“Hey, uh, when this shit's all over…”

He looked  over to Ryuji, who himself was almost furiously staring at his plate, a deep frown on his face and his hand clinging onto the spoon as if his life depended on it. Seeing him like this always made Akira uncomfortable, because he wasn't used to there being any communicative problems between them.  He'd love to think that everything would go back to normal at some point, but he  _had_ almost died after all, and not very peacefully so. Never before had they been this drastically hurt, neither in a palace nor Mementos. Sure, danger and injuries were common, but not to this extend.

“Nah, forget it.”

“Ryuji.”

Raising an eyebrow, Akira set down his spoon and crossed his arms. It was a bit ironic, considering there was something he was keeping to himself as well, but at least he didn't go around dropping hints about it and then backing out of it again. There weren't any big secrets between them, he thought, and if in any way possible, he'd much prefer to keep it that way.

“Ugh, it's dumb. Just thinkin'…I dunno, man, but somehow, 't feels like things're almost over, y'know?”

His first urge was to shake his head, but then he understood what Ryuji meant. People didn't cheer for them like they had before, and even if they did manage to prove their innocence in Okumura's death by revealing the true culprit, who knew if that were enough for them to be accepted again? While this whole Phantom Thieves business was important to all of them, he'd spent enough time with each of their party members to realize that it wasn't what they saw as something to accompany them until they were old – except _maybe_ Ryuji. And himself. Yet even so, the thought of things being _almost over_ just felt so entirely wrong.

“It is true we will most likely not be Phantom Thieves for the rest of our lives, but…does that really mean that everything will be over?”

At least Akira _wanted_ the believe that they would all stay friends after the whole deal was over, especially considering that he was well aware of having to go back home after his probation was over. It was nothing he particularly looked forward to, considering his parents hadn't tried to contact him in _any_ kind of way since he'd come here except for letting _Sojiro_ know that they'd paid for the school trip. His former friends…he didn't even want to think about.

“Ain't it all related to it, though? You're the only one pityin' me enough to waste their free time on me, y'know?”

The entirety of Ryuji's posture fell when he'd finished the words. He turned pale, noticeable even in the dim light, let go of the spoon and instead tried to steady his shaking fingers on the mug of hot cocoa Akira had made for him. He tried his best to look away, as if he wished he hadn't said it out loud. And for the first time, Akira felt really _bad_ around Ryuji. Not _because_ of him, but because he himself hadn't been able to see the pressure build up in his best friend.

“Ryuji…You can't be serious about this.”

“Course I am! Shit, Akira, you're clever, right?! I know it ain't relatable to you 'cause even though the students gave you shit everyday, ya managed to attract people. Everyone wants t'be with you no matter your record, but I ain't lying when I say no one gives a fuck about me.”

_That isn't right_ , Akira wanted to argue. It was true, he hadn't ever really seen anyone spend time with Ryuji after school – and if so, then it was Mishima, who Akira  _knew_ grew tired of Ryuji  _very_ fast. But somehow, he'd figured that at some point, there  _had_ to be someone else willing to spend time with him, even if it were Ann to force him to train together.

Thinking about it now, though, he could hardly remember a time when Ryuji hadn't waited for him in the hallway to go to the station together, and it made sense to think that whenever Akira had had other plans, Ryuji had just hidden the fact that he was disappointed about that. He'd been piling it up since probably the first time they'd hung out, but he was  _lonely_ , enough so to believe that Akira didn't really enjoy spending time with him, but did it out of pity. And he felt awful for never having noticed it.

“I never meant for you to feel like I don't enjoy the time we spend together, because I do. And I care about you. I'm sorry it didn't come across like that.”

He noticed his own voice growing weaker. How could he have been so entirely  _blind_ for that long? It was still a mystery to him  _why_ so many people wanted to spend time with him – because, really, it was somehow true – but never had the thought of it hurting someone else crossed his mind. When he'd last asked anyone to spend time instead of  _being_ asked, he didn't even remember. Imagining the feeling of only having one friend and then being turned down by them…yeah, it was terrible, and if he could, he'd turn back time to every single time he hadn't at least properly responded whenever Ryuji had requested for them to meet.

“God damn, stop apologizing…”

His voice was even weaker, the negativity and self-loathe practically radiating from him like a foggy cloud, and yet again, Akira felt the sudden urge to pull him into a hug – except this time, it was supposed to be comforting on top of thankful.

“See? This's just how pathetic I am. You're hurt, and I ain't stoppin' bitchin' about my problems.”

“I much prefer to talk about something that bothers you which we might change over my wounds that will simply have to heal with time.”

He watched the deep sigh coming from his best friend, the way his eyes closed because he was evidently tired of everything. The short, unsteady breaths and the way his lips trembled, clear indicators of-

Oh no.

He'd noticed just in time, but, due to his wounds, wasn't fast enough to switch over to the seat next to Ryuji before everything came crashing down like a  violent tempest, engulfing them in its cold, merciless winds, trying to tear them down like the fragile leaves of an autumn tree.

“Fuck, you don't understand! Akira, I…you've given me _everything_ just when I thought there was no reason to try going on. I never told ya, I never even told my mom, but I was pretty close to dropping out before we met. Classes were a chore, everyone in school despised me. You were like a goddamn ray of light in my life, and I don't give a flyin ' shit if that sounds awkward.”

I t didn't sound awkward in the slightest, but  Akira didn't answer, didn't  say a single thing about Ryuji breaking down into tears just like he himself had earlier, did nothing but pull him in the same  soothing kind of hug, allowing him to let it all out.  Akira had always liked to believe that he was giving it his all to deepen his bonds with his friends, letting them rely on him as both the leader and a good friend, but right now, he wasn't so sure. Wasn't trying to understand someone else's situation further than what they vocally shared also an important part about friendship? People trusted him, but maybe that wasn't actually a smart thing to do.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Somewhere nearby, a clock that Akira had never known existed in the cafe was ticking patiently, but it soon melted into the sound of their evening heartbeats, and the consistent sniffs slowly ebbing away.  They still didn't talk when he felt a soft poke on his side and construed it as a plea to head up. And only this once, he figured when he nodded in agreement, Sojiro sure wouldn't mind the mess.

 

\----- -----

 

For whatever reason, things were better now. Akira wouldn't have been surprised if there had been an uncomfortable tension between them after this outburst, but it was quite the opposite; they were both lying in bed again, sides barely touching, talking about the most random, unrelated things. None of them said it out loud, but he knew that they felt the same: After admitting at least part of their true feelings, maybe even their _fears_ , they could finally breathe again.

“I'll say, tho, the stunts you pulled in the palace…smooth as fuck, dude.”

He couldn't help but laugh, because he remembered the adrenaline rushing through his body, letting him forget about the dangers ahead for just a few minutes. Of course it had been reckless, but he'd seen it as the easiest way to push away every potential fear creeping up in him. They would've caught him anyway, so why not enjoy at least the time before that?

“I got startled by Akechi still pretending to be an ally and talking to me.”

“Yeah, I almost punched his face in at that point.”

That was highly imaginable. Something in him wanted to believe that even though Akechi had tried to kill him, he'd still meant all the positive things they'd talked about during the time they'd known each other. Maybe it was naive, and maybe it was stupid to pity him, too, but Akira couldn't help it.

“Still, man. No more of that, okay? I got no idea what I woulda done if ya hadn't come back.”

He glanced over, glad that Ryuji looked a lot more _demanding_ than pleading. It wasn't really a request, but an order, and Akira couldn't help but smile at it. No, he really didn't want to repeat _any_ of that – teaming up with the enemy, planning to get caught, risking the death of any of their team members…They hadn't had much of a chance this time, but from now on, they'd have to be more careful, about everything.

“I'd prefer for death to never be this close again as well. There are still many things I'd like to tell you, you know?”

“Huh? Like what?”

It would be a good opportunity to be honest. Tonight was special; they'd seen each other at their worst, so why not take the situation and reveal the truth? After all those weeks of stress and hidden fear, they were finally able to breathe again. And Akira knew how not to put pressure into the words – or so he hoped. He just wanted to make sure Ryuji knew how much he was appreciated.

“I never realized you didn't see it like that, but…when I got here, I did my best to accept being an outcast. I tried not to talk to anyone – I didn't even ask for the way to school back then. People _had_ to hate me, right? But you didn't.”

The voice of Arsene rushed through his mind, reminding him of how he'd first acquired the Persona's strength. His own powerlessness, pressed against the wall, eyes jumping from a madly-grinning Kamoshida to Ryuji's scared, pleading figure. _Was the decision you made a wrong one?_

No, not at all. It was a weird way to see things, but hadn't he helped that woman, effectively causing him to be sent to Tokyo, then he'd never gotten the chance to help any of the people that they had saved as the Phantom Thieves. He'd never have cared much for anything but maybe his grades and future job. But most importantly, he wouldn't ever have met the people he could now call his friends, his best friends, his _family._

“People told me to stay away from you, but all the times we spent together…those really were the best, Ryuji.”

Sure, the things they did together tended to be just so simple, like getting food or reading manga – it was nothing special that they couldn't do on their own, but maybe that was what made it so good. Being with each other _really_ was like being home. Having company that wasn't fiddle. And if there was any way he could keep all of that, he'd do anything for it.

“Damn. Y…You serious?”

Raising an eyebrow, Akira sat up at that. The blanket slid off his body, and Ryuji seemed to instinctively cling onto it more. He was visibly freezing, and maybe they should turn the small furnace on for the night.

“Of course I am.”

Akira decided not to question the force pulling him back down and into another, almost bone-breaking hug. Had he said something wrong? He'd be really mad at himself if he made Ryuji cry yet again, but so far, his breath was even and calm, his heartbeat steady and his grip firm. It almost hurt that he hadn't been aware of all these things until now, and maybe Akira should say it all again.

“I really figured you knew, but I suppose I'm not always entirely obvious about things.”

“More like never, dude. You're, like, super mysterious at times.”

He chuckled and leaned into the hug more, returning it as well as he could, but trying not to mash their upper bodies together too much. His ribs were doing quite okay for now, but if possible, he wouldn't risk for the burning pain to return.

“Well then, I'll try to be more clear about my feelings from now on. Like, right now…being here with you is all I could wish for.”

That wasn't clear at all, was it? But Akira knew, _accepted_ his feelings. Yet, spilling them, saying them _out loud_ was, for whatever reason, a bit scary. As if before he did that, there was still ways to pretend they weren't there. As soon as they were out, they'd be forever.

“Hey, I'm glad, y'know. I…I guess I feel the same?”

“You guess?”

He raised an eyebrow, a sassy yet just slightly shy smile on his lips. Of course he'd gotten used to Ryuji having trouble finding the right words by now, but seeing him fidget mentally, trying to explain himself without sounding – at least so he'd feel – _embarrassing…_ it was adorable.

“Yeah, I- goddamn, you're teasin' me, ain't ya.”

“Just a bit.”

They laughed at that, the closeness they shared soothing them both. Things were alright, after all. It would take some time for both of them to accept what had happened, sure, but they had each other to deal with it. And they would continue to have each other's back no matter what the future chose to throw at them.

Led by the soft sounds of small raindrops falling against the window, Akira pulled away to to look at Ryuji, returned the genuine smile he'd fallen in love with so many, _many_ times and leaned in to plant a shy kiss on his chin and another on his nose, finding a thrilling yet calming kind of joy in the shocked but content expression he got in return.

With them wrapped in each other's arms, things were fine.

They were strong.

They were invincible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the kudos, bookmarks and comments. All the feedback makes me really happy. <3


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